


Roomba

by distractionpie



Series: Reed900 week [3]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Harm To Animals, Pets, Post-Canon Era, baby steps, but only in Gavin's overactive imagination, pre-relationship again, they actually touch this time though, would be G if not for Gavin's foul language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:30:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distractionpie/pseuds/distractionpie
Summary: RK900 has a problem - one that happens to be precisely Gavin's area of expertise.





	Roomba

It was a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.

And, no matter what anybody says, not his fault. Sure, he’d signed the lease contract without reading all the fine print, but only because the damn water main had burst and flooded out his old building and he’d had to move fast because there’d been no couches offered up for him to crash on and a detective’s salary wouldn’t cover hotel living for long.

What kind of psychopath didn’t allow cats in their building? Not even ‘no pets’ which Gavin had been checking for when he’d looked at tenancy options, but ‘pets allowed - except cats’?

And when he’s not at home, he’s constantly stuck at work where he’s surrounded by dog people. It’s disgusting. The only person in the entire damn precinct who doesn’t have bad opinions which they should be ashamed of is Tina and she likes fucking lizards so what’s a guy supposed to do with that?

Dog people and plastic people. Gavin leans back in his desk chair and scowls. He’s got a backlog of paperwork to do and Fowler is withholding new cases until he gets caught up even though it’s all pointless admin stuff, nothing that’s going to actually do anything about the crime-rate in the city, and Gavin is at an impasse trying to decide if he should continue to make a point of refusing to do busywork or if he should grit his teeth and get it over with so he can get back to do something that’s not just bureaucratic time-wasting.

In the meantime, he was people watching and after slapstick that was Ben Collins trying to swipe through the security barrier with a tray of coffees in one hand and a box of doughnuts in the other he turned his attention to the scene across the bullpen. Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet, plus Connor’s freaky double - apparently arguing.

Eavesdropping and detective work are practically synonyms. If they wanted their conversation private they shouldn’t be having it in the precinct, so Gavin has no qualms at all about listening in.

What on earth could be causing a spat amongst the DPD’s most obnoxious dream team?

He didn’t have to listen hard though, because Anderson’s words carried through the room as he threw his hands up in exasperation.

“It’s a goddamn cat. Just keep your windows shut and the damn thing will fuck off to bother somebody more likely to give into it.”

Wait, what?

Since the android revolution Gavin had taken to avoiding Anderson and Connor and had extended that aversion to the new edition when it had arrived, the last thing he needed was to get slapped with a disciplinary because somebody in HR had got it into their head that androids ought to be the exception to typical cop-shop shit-talk, but he couldn’t ignore this.

Their bickering fell silent as Gavin drew near.

“Did I hear something about a cat?” he asked, knowing it sounded too casual and worried Connor make take that as bait to try and suck up again like he had when he’d first arrived, but it’s hard to muster hate when thinking about one of the few types of living creatures he actually likes.

Fortunately, Connor looked appropriately wary and Nines was impassive as ever, but Anderson leaned forward to speak — the mutual dislike he shared with Gavin not erasing the fact that they understood each other all too well. “Some stray cat keeps getting into Nines’ apartment and he can’t get rid of it.”

“Get rid of it?” Gavin glared at the android, who’s L.E.D flickered yellow.

“Yes. I wish to avoid territory conflicts with an animal,” he said. “It is not conducive to a pleasant living environment.”

Gavin scoffed. “Urgh. Really? A cat choses you and you want to kick it out because you don’t know how to share?” Disgusting.

“Aw shit,” Anderson said. “I forgot.” He turned to Nines. “Reed’s a fuckin’ cat person. Likes the evil little bastards, he probably thinks you should start putting out food for it or something.”

“Ancient Egyptians worshipped them as gods, ancient Egyptians had one of the longest lasting civilisations on earth,” Gavin pointed out.

“Actually—”

Gavin has never been more pleased to hear the voice of an android as he is when Nines interrupts whatever pedantic bullshit Connor was about to spout. “You have experience dealing with felines, Detective Reed?” he asked.

“I’ve lived with a couple,” Gavin said with a shrug. He’s no vet but, “First one was in college, vicious tom cat that used to hang around the dorms I was staying in, I got it sleeping in my room and everything.”

“Then you will be able to advise me on dealing with the situation,” Nines said, as if Gavin had nothing better to do than help him out.

“Why do you even want to get rid of it?” Gavin pressed. Was it just Hank’s bad influence or were androids programmed with wrong opinions about pets.

“It attacks him,” Hank cuts in, and Gavin is surprised to realise that he sounds amused. Hank clearly moons over Connor and Connor and Nines have some freaky android twin thing going on but, now he thinks about it, Gavin realises he’s never seen much sign of a connection between Hank and Nines other than the way they both cling to Connor.

“Not my problem,” Gavin pointed out. Honestly, that sounded like something he’d be quite happy to encourage to continue.

“Your assistance would be much appreciated,” Nines said. “Thus far my methods of dealing with the creature have been ineffective and I am unsure of the reliability of other sources of information.”

Gavin bit his lip.

On one hand, he'd be doing a favour for an android; but on the other hand, cat.

Who knows what Nines will do to the thing if Gavin didn’t step up? Feed it to Anderson’s monster of a mutt probably.

“What time do you get off?”

 

*

 

Gavin ended up finishing his work a little later than usual, acutely aware of the eyes of Anderson and both the androids watching him, as if waiting for the chance to call him out on avoiding them. Which wasn’t even the truth for once, he had no intention of leaving the cat at Nines’ mercy until he could be sure whatever plans the android had to get rid of it didn’t end in Gavin having to investigate the android for animal abuse charges - because he would do it, but he was pretty sure it would be an uphill battle in a precinct full of people who’d just assume Gavin was doing it out of some personal grudge and who were all too busy plastering the place with ‘a puppy a day!’ calendars to care about the wellbeing of one poor cat.

The terrible trio were still staring at him when his computer shut down and he’d pulled his jacket on. “Well? Do you want my help or not?” he snapped at Nines. And, because he didn't want an audience, added, “And don't you two have homes to go to? A home? A home and a charging station?” Gavin wasn't sure what the situation was between Connor and Anderson and he didn't really care just so long as he didn't have to deal with the entirety of the DPD’s little human-android relations club trailing around after him.

He fussed pointlessly with his phone as he waited for Nines to pull away from the other two, not bothering to make small talk as he followed the android out of the precinct and down the street.

“Where do you even live?” he asked, because he didn’t want to end up having to haul his ass halfway across the city and back for this shit.

“In my search for residences, I prioritised efficiency,” Nines said, and Gavin was about the point out that wasn’t a proper answer when Nines suddenly turned, not heading for the subway station like Gavin had predicted, and Gavin’s pace carries him a few steps in the wrong direction, leaving him pivoting and having to break into a small jog to catch up. Fucking freakishly tall androids - there was no need for it. Bad enough that the standard android chassis was slightly above the height of the average American male, but somebody at Cyberlife had saw fit to make Nines’ taller still and if Gavin ever found out who that person was he was going to shoot them.

And just as soon as he caught up with the android, the ass-hole stopped walking, holding up a palm do to its weird interfacing thing with a keypad beside a door on a modern apartment building.

For a moment he was perplexed but then saw the small sign beside the door - Woodland Place Android Apartments.

Well, there weren't woods anywhere near this place but that wasn't the part that shocked him.

“This whole place is android only?”

 It was a pretty nice building and he couldn't imagine why any landlord would let some stupid guilt complex.

“A construction fault led to problems with damp when it was inhabited by humans and the building was declared unfit,” Nines explained. “However, androids differing physical needs mean that we do not perform as many moisture generating activities and so rental permits were granted on the condition that the building continued to be acknowledged as not fit for long term human habitation.”

Gavin hesitated.

“It’s perfectly safe, there's nothing to be afraid of,” Nines said, and Gavin bristled — he wasn't _scared_. “The lack of human residents prevents the accumulation of damp, and building records indicate even when the issue was occurring it presented no risk to otherwise healthy humans, it was simply unpleasant.”

“Whatever, I don’t care about the history of the fuckin’ building, I’m not a tourist,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he followed Nines to the elevator.

The apartment, when they reached it, was stark and bare. Nines had only the most basic of furniture, cheap and plain in a way that suggested it had either come with the rental or possibly been acquired via office clearance, and there had been no attempt to decorate at all. Gavin was no interior designer, but at least he had posters and a collection of random nick-knacks acquired via years of unfortunately secret-santas and random novelty fads. His first thought was to turn to Nines and say, ‘Bitch, you live like this?’ but living wasn't the same for androids and Nines probably wouldn't see the funny side. Instead he focused on getting to business.

“So, where’s the cat?” Gavin asked. He assumed it must be a pretty regular feature for Nines to be making such a fuss about it.

Nines walked over to the window, reached out hilariously tentatively, and poked at the blinds.

Immediately, a paw swiped out from between the slats, claws scoring razor thin marks in Nines’ synthetic skin.

“It occupies this area frequently,” Nines said stiffly. “And makes it inconvenient to open the blinds. I do not require an external light source, but it is a luxury I’d prefer to be able to access.”

External light, a luxury? God, androids were weird.

Gavin approached the window cautiously, deliberately gripping the blinds away from the cable to adjust them, where the attack had come from, and peered through the slats.

And then he was as close to death as he'd ever come. Nines problem was tiny. Like, fit in the palm of his hand with room to spare tiny.

He whirled on Nines. “Do you mean to tell me that you've been terrorised in your own home by a kitten?!”

Nines’ nose wrinkled the slightest bit, but the amber flash of his LED was a dead giveaway as he said, “I am not afraid. I would merely prefer to avoid damage to my clothing and external polymers.”

“Then stop pissing it off,” Gavin suggested, “And go stand in the corner.”

Shockingly, the android obeyed. The kitten really must be something, to have him so compliant. Gavin liked it already.

He rummaged through his pockets, pleased to find his emergency pocket jerky is where he remembered it being, breaking off a piece and pushing it through the slats before stepping back.

Moments later, as he’d predicted, the blinds rustled with moment behind them. The poor thing was probably starving, an android building devoid of the scraps of food a stray might otherwise live on.

Nevertheless, this part was going to take patience.

Since Nines didn’t have any comfortable looking furniture, he slipped down until he was sat on the floor beside the window, crumbling more jerky in his hand. “I can’t believe you live less than a block away from the precinct,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes in the direction of the androids. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve bothered to make this place homey, so you may as well have just done like the PC androids used to do and park yourself in the corner of the bullpen when you’re not working.”

There was a long pause. Nines’ expression was utterly blank. Gavin snorted with laughter. “That's what you were going to do,” he realised. “Isn't it? And then, lemme guess, Connor made you get an apartment because he's playing house with Anderson and he gets all touchy about doing people things.”

“You understand.” Nines sounded surprised, which was insulting really because Connor was pretty transparent when it came to most things, breezing through life with his simple understanding of what humans did with none of the nuance that came from experiencing life instead of just downloading a file on it. Gavin broke off another piece of jerky, this time leaving it on his side of the blinds as Nines said, “Connor follows the school of thought that we must adhere to your cultural norms or we will be ‘complicit in our own dehumanisation’--” Until that moment Gavin would have said that Connor and Nines sounded the same when they spoke but there was something to that phrase, something even more annoying than usual in the tone perhaps, that made it obvious that Nines was imitating Connor or perhaps playing his words back. “--whereas I am of the view that we are not human and should live accordingly.”

“So, you compromised on an apartment but no furniture.” As Gavin spoke a fuzzy paw swiped between the slats of the blinds, snatching the jerky piece he'd placed there away. “Fucking weirdos,” he grumbled, breaking off another piece of jerky.

This time he didn't put it down, just let it rest on his palm as they sat in silence and waited to see if the kitten would venture out. It would, Gavin was sure of it, it had to be bold if it had made it this far and attacking Nines at every opportunity was incredibly bold for such a tiny fucking thing.

It took several long minutes, Gavin’s wrist starting to strain at being held at such a weird angle, but then, as he had predicted, the blinds rustled more forcefully and the little ball of fluff that had got Nines in such a snit slipped through the panels to snatch the jerky out of Gavin’s hand.

Now it was in the light of the room he could see that its fur was a gorgeous calico, so a girl, or at least he was going to assume so for now because he was pretty sure checking would be pushing his luck.

It was all he could do to keep still and not scare her off, but his restrain was rewarded as she swallowed the jerky down and instead of scampering back to the relative shelter of the blind she nudged at his hands and let out the softest mewl he’d ever heard - a demand for more that he could never refuse.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he murmured as he rewarded her with another piece of jerky, only to startle when, instead of just taking it, she climbed into his hand. Ballsy little bitch - a cat after Gavin’s own heart.

“Are you adequately equipped to remove her to your residence?” Nines said, interrupting Gavin’s blissful moment. “I understand that there are regulations requiring appropriate carriers in order for animals to use the subway.”

“What? No.” Not that he wasn’t already halfway in love with her, but he couldn't afford the penalty fees it would provoke from his landlord and anyway he lived way over on the other side of town. For the kitten to have ended up in Nines’ apartment it must be from around here and if relocated might try to get back and get hurt crossing unfamiliar territory. Was that what Nines had thought Gavin was offering? “My apartment doesn’t allow cats. I can take her to a shelter if you’re gonna keep being a dick about it,” he acknowledged. He didn’t want the cat here if Nines resented it so much he posed a risk to it, but, “But get her comfortable and she’ll stop attacking.”

There was a pause and then, slowly, Nines nodded. “Domestic felines have developed mutually beneficent domestic relationships with humans for centuries,” he intoned. “As an android I had not considered the possibility of the same. But if you believe it can be achieved…”

Gavin nodded, almost slipping into frantic. If he did have to take the kitten to a shelter she’d probably be okay, young and cute meant adoptable, but he’d rather have her somewhere he could keep tabs on her - even if that would mean talking to Nines. Maybe she’d clawed at him a few times but the poor kitten was probably freaked out by Nines’ lack of smell, that didn’t mean should couldn’t get used to him though - Gavin remembered that cat he’d had back when he’d been a beat cop and the way it’s favourite sleeping spot had  been on top of the computer tower and Nines was sort of like that, at least surely he would be to a cat. “Come sit by me,” he ordered, “Slowly!”

Then he almost ruined it by laughing at just how slowly Nines approached. He’d only meant to keep the android from startling the kitten, but Nines inched forward like he was trying to avoid setting off a land-mine.

As the android edged over Gavin decided to make a gamble, he was braced for it to resist, ready to bleed for the greater good, but surprisingly the kitten had no objection to being settled more comfortably as Gavin braced the arm holding the kitten across his knees. And when Gavin reached out with his other hand to stroke it he could feel it vibrating in his palm with the force of its purr.

Beside him, Nines settled on the floor with his usual programmed grace and Gavin felt determination settle in his gut. Nines would be keeping the kitten. Gavin was no good at charm but he would defy any half-decent human not to melt for the little ball of fluff in his hand, even a dog person. And if androids really were supposed to be people then this was Nines’ chance to prove it.

He stroked the kitten slowly and it practically melts into his palm.

“Like this,” he ordered Nines. Not whatever mechanical bullshit the android had been doing to scare it into attacking him. Gavin couldn’t help but remember the videos of his youth, incompetent amateur build robots completing tasks with far too much force and no precision — androids were nothing like that of course, but the thought was still an amusing one.

Nines complied, and it was strange, in the whole time since he’d joined the precinct Gavin didn’t think he’d ever seen the android be so agreeable, reaching out with one hand -long-fingered and pale, human-like but far too smooth for a cop— to press his fingertips to the kitten’s fur.

The purring stopped.

Gavin had to resist the urge to tense, the cat would notice and freak out more, instead grabbing Nines’ hand and shifting it to a more natural position. “Like this, idiot,” he grumbled. “Don’t you have the whole of the internet in your head, couldn’t you just download a how-to video for this shit?”

Nines flexed his fingers, said in a low voice, “I am aware of the technique. However most online resources are for humans and I believe the default settings of my hand were ill-suited to the task. I have used yours for reference to set a more appropriate temperature and adjust my external polymers to more easily replicated the stimulation you are providing the feline.”

Huh. That make sense. Nines’ hand was warm and—

—and that was when Gavin realised that he knew that because technically he was holding hands with the android.

Fuck.

He'd been so distracted by the kitten that for a moment he'd forgotten where he was, who he was with, and had relaxed.

He pulls his hand back, leaving Nines’ as the only one stroking the kitten but that doesn’t change the fact in order to facilitate the introduction of android and kitten he’d let Nines close - hadn’t even thought about all his usual lines regarding personal space. People near to him pissed Gavin off, androids near to him were even worse, and yet, distracted by the kitten he’d relaxed and thought nothing of pressed side by side against Nines who might be made of hard plastic and metal wires but doesn’t feel that way at all. Gavin has always thought of androids as cold, but he can feel heat now radiating off Nines and apparently the kitten can too because it uncurls in Gavin’s hand then climbs confidently along his arm until it can leap into Nines’ lap.

Traitor.

“You should name her, if you’re gonna keep her,” Gavin said, as a quick distraction. It was a gamble, naming might encourage Nines not to dump her if social bonding worked like that for androids, but given that Nines had names himself, well, _Nines,_ letting him pick a name for the cat was a risk.

Nines frowned, L.E.D flickering yellow for several long moments.

“Roomba.”

“What?”

“Humans first widespread welcome of autonomous life into their homes was in the form of robotic vacuum cleaners, intended for a service but instances of human social bonding instincts extending to include them were recorded from early on in their popularity,” Nines explained, even though Gavin was pretty sure he hadn’t asked for random history trivia. “Similarly, to how felines self-domesticated to form service-based partnerships with humans which then developed into social ones. And now…”

Huh. Gavin suddenly realised that Nines was actually making sense. “Roombas were machine pets for humans, now you’re a machine with a living pet.” Was this some sort of android version of humour? Or, at least, Nines’ version of it? Fuck it. Gavin reached out, running his fingers down the kittens back and ignoring how far into Nines’ personal space to do so. It wasn’t weird when there was a kitten there. “Roomba huh… yeah, alright. Not bad, dickface.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's it from me for Reed900 week! Trying to write multiple fics so fast has been hard, I'm just not suited to short writing anymore, so now it's back to the big meandering wips where I can take all the time I need.
> 
> For additional bursts of writerly grumblings my tumblr is [@damnyoualex](http://damnyoualex.tumblr.com/)


End file.
